Requiem
by Ultimolu
Summary: [Post RE5, AU] It was a stupid fight-she knew that much. Chris was stubborn, but she never meant for everything to spiral out of control. When she goes back to his apartment to apologize, Claire finds him dead and a figure standing over his corpse.
1. i epistula

**Title: **Requiem

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**Author:** Ultimolu

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**Series:** Resident Evil

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**Disclaimer**: I own none of the characters in Resident Evil. All characters belong to Capcom respectively.

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**Genre**: Angst, Horror

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**Plot: [Post RE5, AU]** It was a stupid fight-she knew that much. Chris was stubborn, but she never meant for everything to spiral out of control. When she goes back to his apartment to apologize, Claire finds him dead and a figure standing over his corpse.

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**A/N: **I was in the mood for a really dark story so I decided to get started on this one. It's a not a long story so it won't have so many chapters. I am working on _**nemocen**_ so that should be updated soon. I got started on the next part for _**Asylum**_ and will be working on _**masquerade**_ as well.

'epistula' means 'message' in Latin.

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**Warning**: This is Alternate Universe and completely outside of the box.

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_Look at his face; he's the Devil in disguise_

_No the Devil never dies_

_You know the Devil never dies_

…

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[**i.** epistula]

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**[You have one new message.]**

...

"…Claire, I'm sorry about…what happened. It was a stupid fight, and you were right. I'm just frustrated right now. The B.S.A.A has Jill wrapped around their fingers and there's not a goddamned thing I can do about it. I've done everything to have her released under my care. But they're convinced that she's a threat to everyone around her. This P30 drug that was in her system, it did more than just destroy her memories. It took over her actions and turned her against me and what she stood for.

Despite that…I had no right or reason to take this out on you.

I should have known you were just trying to help, but instead I pushed you away. I would like…if you came over later on today…just the two of us. You can come over around six-thirty or seven. I could rent some movies; we could have dinner—just like old times. I know you're busy with TerraSave and trying to live a normal life but I just feel that some time together will give us some time to just relax and put our minds at ease. Or we can go to your favorite restaurant—your choice. I've realized that we haven't spent enough time with each other since Raccoon City and Umbrella.

But then again, how could we? Most of the time, we were up against bioweapons and madmen trying to take over the world.

This cleanup in Kijuju is far from over, but it gives us time to have some form of peace. I don't know how long it'll last but it's better than nothing at all.

I hope you'll return my call…I don't want anything to come between us, not this way.

I love you…and nothing will change that."

...

**[End of messages. To replay, press 1. To delete, press 2. To save in the archives, press 3.]**

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**Notes**: This short intro is very important. I've started doing this with my stories in order to set the tone and nature of the plot.


	2. ii ultio ultionis

**Title: **Requiem

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**Author:** Ultimolu

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**Series:** Resident Evil

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**Genre**: Angst, Horror, Tragedy

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**Plot: [Post RE5, AU]** It was a stupid fight-she knew that much. Chris was stubborn, but she never meant for everything to spiral out of control. When she goes back to his apartment to apologize, Claire finds him dead and a figure standing over his corpse.

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**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews so far—I appreciate them. Again, this part is short because I decided to do something a little different this time around—post two short prologues and then go into Chapter I. I will be updating _**Damnation**_, _**Asylum**_ and _**nemocen**_ this weekend hopefully.

'ultio ultionis' means 'revenge' in Latin.

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**Warning**: This is Alternate Universe and completely outside of the box.

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[**ii.** ultio ultionis]

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"_**You're just another one of Umbrella's leftovers."**_

_Chris…_

Rage coursed through him.

The words were nothing more than a remembrance, all of which mocked him at each turn. He had underestimated his enemy once more. Failure was never a viable option, not when he was in control.

But this time, he had lost that control. His enemy had won, and his plans lay in ruins.

He did not expect to survive. The rockets from the helicopter had done its damage, however they did not kill him. There was a component with Uroboros that allowed him to survive in some way. He survived long enough for his virus to begin regenerating his body. It would take time to understand how, but it did not matter, not at this point.

Vengeance would come first. Analysis would soon follow.

He did not expect to escape the volcanic island, until he stumbled across a specially trained unit that was dispatched by Tricell. It surprised even him that they were foolish enough to send men to ensure his death. He was considered a rogue, along with the deceased Excella Gionne. Even then, the woman was nothing more then a stepping stone for his plans. No doubt, they would do everything to distance themselves from the Kijuju outbreak.

The screams of each mercenary was music to his ears, as he cut through them. His full strength had not returned, but it was enough to destroy them. He was able to obtain clothes from one of his victims before he took the pilot and the helicopter they arrived in hostage. The volcano had died down for the most part. Remnants of ashes were scattered throughout the island, followed by pools of lava. It allowed him to move, but even he was not foolish enough to stay, in case there was another eruption.

It took weeks for him to recover. He became a ghost once more, hiding within the shadows. If there was a volcanic eruption, it would eliminate traces of evidence left behind of the mercenaries' demise.

And now, the world believed he was dead.

Inhuman eyes narrowed in the darkness. Chris will perish first. Then others will follow.

Only then, will he begin to regroup.


	3. iii orsa

**Title: **Requiem

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**Author:** Ultimolu

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**Series:** Resident Evil

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**Genre**: Angst, Horror, Tragedy

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**Plot: [Post RE5, AU]** It was a stupid fight-she knew that much. Chris was stubborn, but she never meant for everything to spiral out of control. When she goes back to his apartment to apologize, Claire finds him dead and a figure standing over his corpse.

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**A/N: **This chapter took a couple of rewrites. It's a bit longer than the prologues but this is a short story so expect medium to short chapters. I am still working on _**nemocen**_, _**masquerade**_, and _**Asylum**_. I also have two one-shots to work on as well.

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'orsa' means 'beginning' in Latin.

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**Warning**: This is Alternate Universe and completely outside of the box.

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**iii.** orsa

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**Washington**

**15, September 2009**

Her grip narrowed against the handlebars of the motorcycle, as she accelerated down the expressway. She remembered how distinct it felt when she received it as an early birthday gift. Chris loathed her passion for motorcycles ever since college. He cited every traffic law in existence and forced her to memorize each one, as if he wanted to discourage her from riding in the first place. When she received her first brush with the law, he had gone insane with worry and did everything possible to assure the police that she would never get in trouble again.

As time passed, he realized how futile it was to change her mind and gave in. She knew Jill had something to do with the early gift, but she never knew the truth.

The Suzuki Hayabusa model was a work of art. It was expensive and traveled well in harsh weather conditions. She treasured it to the point she found herself polishing the exterior portion of the motorcycle each day. It was a piano black, with flames painted on the seat. Everything else was comprised of silver metal. Chris told her that it was the newest Japanese model and the latest one on the market.

Even now, it was just a memory of the ephemeral peace they shared before Africa and the mission that transformed Chris into a broken shell of the man she once looked up for guidance and support.

The speed monitor reached fifty.

She knew better than to drive in the middle of a looming thunderstorm. A part of her wanted to ignore the message Chris left behind on her answering machine when she came out of the shower. The other part, however was lenient and to a degree, remorseful. As much as he was in the wrong, there were some things she wished she could take back. There were signs that Chris was beginning to self-destruct and she chose to ignore them. He was dealing with his own form of hell and post-traumatic stress. Jill was being treated as a prisoner and Kijuju was still a fresh topic for the B.S.A.A. Tricell was beginning to slip away from the law's fingertips, due to their top lawyers and much wasn't being done to bring them to justice—it was enough to drive anyone insane with rage.

There were times where he pretended everything was fine, but she knew better. He was fighting a bitter war on the inside, mentally and physically. When someone was backed into the corner with nowhere to turn, they lashed out.

Chris was the one who lashed out.

"_I didn't need your sympathy."_ He snapped during their fight. _"I didn't ask you to come over. I didn't ask you to see how I was doing. I was okay, until you showed up. I don't need anyone…"_

It was a lie—she knew that much. He was drunk; the stench of liquor was on his breath when he yelled at her. The last thing she remembered was storming out of the condo. He didn't try to stop her once she left. Her mind was a whirlwind of anger, defeat, and fear. She was afraid that he would hurt himself, but at the same time, Chris needed a reality check. She wanted to call him to see if he was alright, but his words stung. They sent her over the edge to the point she didn't want to think of him as her brother anymore.

A brother didn't hurt his sister this way, not when she was trying to help him.

Rebecca and Leon tried to end the rift between them, but to no avail. Chris was too stubborn to admit that he was drunk and didn't mean what he said and she was too stubborn to apologize for pushing him too hard.

It didn't have to be this way, and yet it happened.

They had fights during their years of growing up, but not to this extent.

Thunder gnarred in the distance as the motorcycle crawled to a stop. It usually took an hour to reach the condo, but traffic was a nightmare tonight. Navigating through each car and truck in front of her would be a challenge of her skills on the road. Since the incident in college, she was careful to follow every traffic law in Washington. Chris wasn't always going to be around to bail her out and Leon was too busy in Washington D.C to put his credentials to work. Her TerraSave connections would probably work, but then again she wasn't trying to develop a record for herself.

Minutes passed before the traffic light changed from red to green. Claire drew a shallow breath from the helmet before the motorcycle roared to life once more.

It was going to be a long night.


	4. iv cerno

**Title: **Requiem

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**Author:** Ultimolu

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**Series:** Resident Evil

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**Genre**: Angst, Horror

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**Chapters**: iv/viii completed

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**Plot: [Post RE5, AU]** It was a stupid fight-she knew that much. Chris was stubborn, but she never meant for everything to spiral out of control. When she goes back to his apartment to apologize, Claire finds him dead and a figure standing over his corpse.

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**A/N**: This story is almost finished, since it's pretty short. I would like to note once more that if you place my stories on alerts/and/or favorites, please leave a review at least. Its common courtesy to let someone know you're reading and enjoying their story. I don't bite and I'm very open-minded and friendly. When I was younger, I didn't used to accept criticism because I was flamed in the past but I've changed since then.

'cerno' means 'resolve' in Latin

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**iv**. cerno

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**Washington**

**15, September 2009**

Maybe he wasn't meant to be a homegrown chef.

Chris studied the recipe several times, to no avail. As much as he was tempted to order takeout, he wanted to make tonight special. The message he left on Claire's answering machine resonated in his mind each time. He didn't expect her to forgive him or listen to his message, until he received her text message. For once, he felt the weight of his actions on his shoulders.

He never meant to hurt Claire. It was a fight that spun out of control, and now he was struggling to make up for it.

The recipe was set aside.

He rose from the table and stretched his limbs. Chris stared at the stove and the bare sink. Thankfully, he didn't start 'cooking' yet. It was probably better that way, considering that he was able to clean up hours ago. The kitchen was immaculate, reminiscent of something you'd find in a catalog. Pinewood floors, chairs, a table, and cabinets made up the exterior of the kitchen.

The rest was a combination of alabaster and lavender, courtesy of Claire's handiwork when he first moved in. Never in a million years did he expect to afford a condo like this. The funds he received from the B.S.A.A were more than enough to begin a new life, devoid of bioterrorism. Even then, it wasn't easy for him. Jill was still within the grasp of the B.S.A.A and was noted as a threat to the world despite overwhelming evidence that she was being controlled against her will and by Albert Wesker. Tricell refused to back down and wanted to maintain their 'innocence'. They had the best lawyers money could buy, and the B.S.A.A had their hands full.

The name 'Wesker' still drove tremors along his spine whenever it was mentioned. The memories of Africa still plagued him. It was a miracle that he was still functioning as a human being.

…_or alive…_

His eyes wandered to the grandfather clock. He had some time before Claire arrived. It would take her at least another hour, depending on the traffic and weather conditions. He didn't know about the weather, until he watched the news. It was the only thing worth watching, aside from the comedy shows and movies he had seen dozens of times already. Of course, there was the usual media propaganda and conspiracy theories related to Umbrella, Raccoon City, and the B.S.A.A.

Everything else, including Jill was strictly confidential.

It wasn't surprising to come across a reporter on his way home each night. He would give them the same 'no comment' spin, only have them continue pestering him until he gave them his best glare.

If looks could kill, they would be dead on the spot.

Minutes passed, before he decided on what to do.

He would first clean out the bar, one liquor bottle at a time. Then he would clean out his home office downstairs.

Alcohol would never impair his judgment again.

He would make sure of it.

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• • •

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"Two-seventy nine."

Claire reached for the small black messenger bag she carried with her. She had no intentions of stopping at the local gas station, but she didn't want to continue riding with a headache that threatened to split her head in two. It was rare that she received them. They would come and go on their own. Sometimes she used a cool, damp washcloth on her forehead and lie down for a couple of minutes.

She read that headaches were due to stress or bouts of frustration.

Right now she was frustrated and stressed. TerraSave had begun talks, relating to the outbreaks in Africa. Humanitarian efforts were underway to aid the people who weren't infected. There was a chance she would be called in to provide assistance, but she never told Chris.

Claire counted the change in her purse. She had a couple of twenties, three dollars, and a single five dollar. There were also a couple of quarters, dimes, pennies, and nickels. As she was reaching for the appropriate change, she noticed packs of gum by the counter. They consisted of a flavor she didn't recognize.

She had a strange tendency to try out every flavor. A part of her was curious about the citrus mango flavor. Grabbing a pack of gum, she added it to the bottle of water and the small bottle of Advil.

"How much is that now?"

The male clerk checked the price of the gum and recorded it on the register. "Three-seventy nine maa'm."

Claire's hand left the two dollars behind and reached for the five dollar bill. There was nothing wrong with extra change in her purse.

As soon as she handed the clerk the bill, thunder rattled the windows from outside.


End file.
